


Special Delivery

by gabapple, mamodewberry



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, NLA Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:22:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabapple/pseuds/gabapple, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamodewberry/pseuds/mamodewberry
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri make up their own AU while waiting for dinner to arrive at their Saint Petersburg apartment.





	Special Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> This is post-series, [NLA](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8997835/chapters/20547385) canon(?), during the summer after the season in the anime. Yuuri and Viktor are now living in Saint Petersburg, being adorable. AND WE WROTE IT BECAUSE IT'S MADDIE'S BIRTHDAY AND WE LOVE HER. <3333333

"Okay, but are you still skating for Russia? And did Coach Feltsman change his base to Detroit, or are you on your own?"

"I'm not on my own, I have Makkachin!"

"Viktor."

"Mmm... no, I'm still skating for Russia. If I'm ever skating, it's always for Russia." Viktor sucked in a breath and puffed it out right into Yuuri's hair, which was easy to do since he was draped in his lap with all of his fiance's attention fixed on him.

Yuuri frowned at him, but resumed petting Viktor's hair. "Okay. And Yakov?"

"But," Viktor held up a finger, continuing the narrative in his dramatic, storytelling voice. "I've run away from my coach for the season for research purposes, and he's very upset with me. Not as upset as he would be in other circumstances, of course. I definitely discussed this trip with him in advance. But my papa, you know how he gets."

"Yes. I do." Yuuri certainly did. In the two months they'd been in Russia, he'd gotten to know Yakov quite well. "So you're still Russia's hero."

"Of course! I'm always Russia's hero. Forever!" The hand gestures were always part of Viktor's stories, and as broad as his hyperbole. "That hasn't changed, you know. Even now."

"No, I know. I'm just trying to figure out how old I am here... and how many consecutive years you've won."

"...oh. Because of your graduation."

"Yeah. And just a point of reference, I guess."

Viktor hummed, considering for a moment. "Let's say this was the year before your crushing defeat at the Sochi Grand Prix. Just before the start of that season, da?"

"Hm. Okay. I can work with that."

"Good." Maybe it wasn't the best way to start the game, but Yuuri didn't seem to be too upset. Viktor crossed his legs at the ankle over the arm of the couch and wriggled to get a little more comfortable, smiling up at him. "We should have... twenty-something minutes."

Yuuri glanced at the door, then back down at Viktor. "I'd still be really nervous to talk to you, though. Phichit would tease me endlessly."

"That's okay. This is why you have a job delivering my favorite: honey walnut shrimp."

Yuuri smiled one of many cute smiles; one brow quirked just ever so slightly, mouth curved just enough so that it wasn't obvious to most that he thought they were being stupid. Of course, he didn't think that Viktor was stupid. No, never. Just being silly. And that was okay. For Viktor, the smile was a touch more fond.

"Is that a fact?" he asked.

"Well," said Viktor. "When it comes to Chinese food, yes."

"Good to know. Okay. I'd be your delivery boy."

Viktor turned his head just enough to nuzzle into the fabric of Yuuri's shirt, seeking the warmth of his stomach. Even though it was June, it was still cool in the Saint Petersburg evenings, and Yuuri loved to wear layers. "You can ride a bicycle. It would be very cute. And so good for your calves..."

He blushed, which was even cuter. "Checking out your delivery boy already... But yeah, I don't have a license, so I would ride a bike."

"With a little basket for your deliveries!"

"I think they have those cargo carrier things that fit on the seats, actually."

"...oh. Well, one of those, then!"

Yuuri brushed fingers through Viktor's hair, quietly musing on the setup. "I'd already have a crush on you."  

"Oh really?" As if he didn't already know.

"Yeah. And I'd see the name on the delivery slip and probably try to get someone else to do it, first."

"GASP. Really? Yuuri! It'd be a perfect excuse to meet me, though!"

Yuuri slid his hand from Viktor's hair to rest on his face, covering the mock look of shock and horror. "You underestimate just how much of a wuss I can be. But," he let Viktor take his hand away to hug it to his chest. "I'd eventually get over it. Regret it, though, because I'd probably fall on my face coming up the steps of your apartment."

"That's..." Viktor stared up at him. "Would the food be okay?"

"I'd save the food!"

"Okay, then I wouldn't notice, so you'd be okay. No need to worry!"

"But... my face would be red."

More considering. Viktor pursed his lips. "How good is your restaurant?"

"There was this really good Chinese place Phichit and I ate at a lot. We'll pretend that's where I work."

"Okay! Then I might not notice, anyway. I'm pretty hungry."

Yuuri frowned. "Rude."

"I'm kidding!"

"Okay. So what would attract you to me?"

Viktor hummed again, taking Yuuri's hand and pressing his fingers to his lips in thought. "Perhaps the fact that you took the stairs instead of the elevator... very strange delivery boy." He smiled.

"...Oh. I guess you'd live in a nice place, wouldn't you?"

Viktor covered the mumbled embarrassment with enthusiasm. "Wow! You climbed all thirty-four stories?"

"W-wait."

"I'm impressed, delivery boy!"

"Maybe the elevator broke at, like, the twenty-first floor and forced me to get off!"

"Oh." Viktor's bright-eyed smile turned into a little pout. "So only thirteen? That's not nearly as good. And unlucky to boot, if I'm not mistaken. I don't know if I can accept this, now." He sighed,dragging the back of Yuuri's hand to his forehead. "How disappointing. And you were so cute, too."

"...okay, twenty-second. But you won't know how many stories I climbed."

Viktor peeked up at him again. "Make it the twentieth and you've got a deal."

"Even though I won't tell you?"

"Oh, Yuuri. I'll know."

Yuuri sighed, turning his hand over so that it was his palm on Viktor's forehead. "Fine. Twenty. I was determined to deliver your food, and was still five minutes early."

"That's very impressive, Yuuri!" Viktor used his own hand to fan fingers in front of his mouth, letting Yuuri's be, then paused, thoughtful again. "Five minutes early, though... I was still getting out of the shower. So you had to wait two minutes for me to answer the door."

Yuuri blinked down at him. "You're not in a towel, are you?"

Tucking his chin, Viktor made what could only be described as bedroom eyes up at his dear darling, the look only marred by Yuuri's hand covering his forehead. "I'm sure you'd like that, but I don't think that'd be very smart. You could be anyone, after all... like a crazy super fan!"

"...once you knew it was me, would you?" Yuuri asked, slowly edging his hand away to see the full effect of Viktor's expression. Nice.

"You mean, once I knew it was my cute delivery boy and that I knew for sure that I wanted to seduce him? Perhaps. Yes."

"Jeez... would you really?"

"Why not? It's not like you're going to!"

"Of course I wouldn't try it..."

"See?! So I have to do it. But for the first time, how about... how about I'm wearing just what I'm wearing right now?"

Yuuri looked him over, nodding at the soft knit sweater, the faded jeans, the socks, then looked back at his smile. "Yeah, that'd be good. And I'd be in a uniform of some kind. Probably with a dorky hat."

"Cute." Viktor meant it.

"Yeah. Real cute." Yuuri did not.

Viktor sighed. "Anyway. I'd see your glasses sideways and ask what happened."

"I'd say I tripped going up the stairs. But don't worry! Not a grain of rice spilled."

The way Yuuri puffed out his chest in pride made him absolutely irresistible. But Viktor held back with a curt nod. "Oh good! But then I'd ask about the elevator."

"The elevator broke," he explained. "So I had to walk the rest of the way."

Viktor feigned another look of mock horror, which had Yuuri almost rolling his eyes- but not quite. "Oh no... I hope you didn't have to go up too many flights."

"Just... fourteen."

A gasp, a "Wow!" and then, thoughtful, "They tip in America, don't they?"

"Y-yeah."

"In that case, come inside for a second and let me find some more change to double your tip!"

"That's not... necessary. Part of the job. Make sure you get your meal."

"Oh no, I insist! Plus, you can meet my Makkachin!"

"Makkachin? Who's Makkachin?"

The dog in question raised his head from the large and comfortable bed in front of the television and slowly turned angled his head at the pair on the couch. They were being weird again. He sniffed in their direction, head tilting one way, then the other, and waited to see if they needed him.

"Yes, he's my roommate," said Viktor, and patted the faded denim over his lap. "Come meet Yuuri in the story, Makkachin."

Makkachin yawned, tongue curling, then stretched his paws out onto the hardwood floor before getting up, tail wagging, and trotted over to the couch. He usually liked to leave them alone when they got all cuddly with each other, but if he was being invited...

"Oof, I meant sit on my legs, not on my face! Makka!"

But Makkachin couldn't very well give Yuuri kisses if he stayed in Viktor's lap, so he had to be all upons, at least for a minute. Besides, Yuuri gave the best pettings behind the ears and under the chin, so too bad for Viktor.

"Good to meet you, Makkachin," said Yuuri. "Nice place you have here."

Viktor pushed the poodle down to his stomach and rubbed his hands over his shoulders to get him to stay. "It's not as nice as my apartment in Saint Petersburg, but it's okay."

Yuuri looked around the apartment that they were in- the one in Saint Petersburg -then back at Viktor. "Right."

"I probably keep cash on hand, so while I'm getting it, I'd ask some questions."

Yuuri slipped an arm around Viktor to get to Makkachin, rubbing the dog's ribs which got his tail thumping against Viktor's legs. "I'd really want to stay in the doorway, but I guess if you're being generous..."

"Of course I'm being generous. Not too generous, though. Chris says that's insulting, even though I'd think that getting more money is a good thing?"

"That's why most of the world doesn't tip. Good service is part of the salary."

"Oh, America." Viktor pretended to divvy out some bills in his hands. "But while I'm getting out the stacks of cash, I'd ask what your name was. Like... 'So, what is your name?'"

"And I'd say Yuuri Katsuki, and then I'd say that I know who you are, because... I have your name on the receipt. Mr. Nikiforov."

"Clever. But unfortunately for you, and fortunately for me, I would recognize that name from somewhere, and lean in close to get a better look. 'HMMM,' I'd say. 'I think I've heard that name before. Do I know you?'"

"Aah! Getting close to me?"

Viktor nodded, and maneuvered himself on the couch to sit up, sliding Makkachin onto his feet so he could twist around, leaning right up into Yuuri's face. "Like this."

He grinned.

"...Ruthless as ever. I'd probably get really embarrassed and try not to look at you."

"And I'd think that was really, really cute." Viktor emphasised this by kissing the tip of Yuuri's nose, then flopped back down over his lap. "But then I'd let you go, because I guess it's rude to make people uncomfortable for too long. So here's your tip, cute delivery boy." He waved the imaginary cash in one hand.

Yuuri took it from him. At least, as far as he could tell. "Pretty sure it's rude to begin with."

"But it's fun."

"...I guess, but only after you know them." With Viktor draped all the way over his lap, Yuuri resorted to petting his stomach over the sweater, careful not to tickle him too much.

"Okay. Fine. You can run away and be embarrassed, and I will eat my honey walnut shrimp cold and alone while I think about Yuuri Katsuki..."

"And plan ways to win my heart, even though it's already yours?"

"Right. Not that I know that since you ran away."

"Well, as I said, I'm a wuss."

Viktor shrugged, then reached behind his head to adjust the throw pillows that were butted up against the arm of the couch. They weren't the softest things, but they did look nice. "That's fine, though. Since I'm in Detroit, I'll be going to your rink all the time, and since Phichit is sure to be teasing you... you'll be a very easy target."

Yuuri's hands stilled. "I'm... so glad you were not in Detroit."

"Really? But it could have been so much fun! I could watch you skate, you could watch me skate, I could argue with Celestino about everything..."

Yuuri was not convinced.  "I guess so..."

"But, oh, I would definitely put it together. Cute delivery boy is none other than Yuuri Katsuki! And then I would approach you at the rink. Would you run away?"

"That depends…”

"Okay, imagine I skate up to you. 'Hello! Nice weather in Detroit today, isn't it?'"

"Really?" Yuuri asked, tapping Viktor's stomach with his thumb. "Weather small talk?"

Viktor's cheerful demeanor deflated. "Yuuri, I may not be as shy as you, but that doesn't mean I'm actually good at this."

It was a trap from which there was no saving himself, and Yuuri conceded with a quiet nod. Compliance was the only way out. "Okay, fair." 

"Now who's the rude one?"

Or not. "Sorry, sorry! I'd still be caught off guard that, 1) you're talking to me, 2) that you want to talk to me!"

Another sigh, and Viktor let his arm drape off of the couch, going limp. Dramatic.

Makkachin wagged his tail, amused.

"Hmf. No matter. Even if you won't talk to me, I'm sure I would see something in you; something incredible that I couldn't explain. Not just how cute you are, but something in your skating! And the sparkle in your eye!" He paused, taking his turn to crane his head and look Yuuri over. "This would be over the course of several days or weeks or something, of course."

Yuuri nodded. "Phichit would probably convince me that you like me."

"He'd be the one to catch me watching you... and he'd be the one I'd go to for your work schedule, too!"

"Conspirators!"

"Don't forget who you're dealing with here. I'm a very busy person and a genius, if you recall. I don't want to waste my time ordering chinese food every day at various times, hoping to get the right one. Work smarter!"

"Right, right... Sorry. I just..."

"You just... what?"

Yuuri mumbled something under his breath while he adjusted his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose, then sighed. "If we're talking about the stuff in my books, they'd chance it. They aren't always smart. And I'd think, 'wow, what a waste of time,' but it's cute to read."

"We're better than your books. Besides, I'm ordering enough for two."

"Two? Why so much?"

"So you can join me!"

"...but I'm working. You'd be taking me away from my shift."

Both Viktor and Makkachin took a moment to stare up at Yuuri, mouths closed, brows knit over their eyes to give them that concerned sort of 'that's such a weird thing to say, we're worried about you' sort of way, but only Viktor replied. "That's very responsible of you. But I guess I can eat the leftovers."

"Uh. Or you could order toward the end of my shift and I could... come back."

"Ah! Even better! Brilliant, Yuuri!"

"It'd be a struggle, but I'd do it."

Yuuri's determined face required a face pet, so Viktor reached up to stroke his cheek. "Hopefully you can take the elevator the whole way."

"If your maintenance is on top of things."

"It's a very expensive building, Yuuri. Rent is ridiculous in Detroit. Probably. They'd better be on top of it for what I'm paying!" He made a fist to shake- away from Yuuri's face of course. "I'll bother them every day! 'My Makkachin doesn't want to walk up all of these stairs and is too proud to be carried, so you'd better have that elevator fixed!' Right, Makka?"

The dog, who was mostly asleep again, wagged his tail for show. Whatever they were on about, sure, whatever. Yeah okay.

Viktor let his hand come to rest over his chest. "Don't worry, it'll be fixed."

"Okay, good. I'll come back and take the elevator, then."

"OH! Oh, but before you come back- the first time, when you're bringing the food, I can say 'Oh, Yuuri Katsuki! What a pleasant surprise to have you delivering my food this time, how nice! Would you like to come in? I seem to have accidentally ordered too much and it would be nice to have company. I can't imagine how that could have happened, but since you're here anyway, and since we both skate, it seems like a perfect opportunity to talk about our common interests.'" He paused for breath and emphasis. "'And, wow, somehow I ordered your favorite dish from that restaurant. How could I have ever known? One of the great mysteries of life...'"

"And I'd be so surprised. Basically a date... my idol..."

"How fortuitous!"

"Think I'd have time to change so I don't smell like Chinese and have my dorky hat?"

"Even though it's very cute on you... maybe my apartment is close to yours somehow."

"Hmm..." Yuuri wiggled, trying to get access to his phone with Viktor still draped over his lap. "Maybe I should look at a map."

"Yuuri, Saint Petersburg traffic is terrible, but I don't think it's that bad. Our food will be here sooner than later and we're running out of time!" Huffing, he pulled himself into a sit, next to Yuuri instead of on top of him, Makkachin on his feet, then paused. "...Unless, of course, our delivery person has died. Which is entirely possible."

Yuuri followed after, leaning cheek to shoulder to look up at him with a grin. "Okay, we'll just say that yes, it's close. I just thought you wanted this to be a super possible thing is all."

"Except if this were really how it happened I would have just bothered you at the rink, or waited for Phichit to push you at me. And actually," he rubbed at his neck. "Detroit only sounds fun at all because you're there to begin with."

"Okay, sorry, I'm worrying too much about the details. But you're right. Even a lot of Americans don't like it, so I don't blame you."

"Yuuri, I was never going to leave Saint Petersburg at all. For anywhere. In the entire world!" Viktor ruffled Makkachin's ears, idly folding one on top of the other. "...until you brought me to Hasetsu."

Yuuri hooked his chin on Viktor's shoulder to watch. "I know."

"I want to be where Yuuri is."

"I could have gone to school longer... Would you have followed me there?"

"Wherever you go, I go. If I had to go to Detroit to be your coach, I would have."

"No onsen," Yuuri said, wrapping arms around him.

"It wouldn't have been nearly as fun, and I might have starved to death without Mama K."

"Yeah... but I would have taken you to that Chinese place."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Yuuri watched Viktor put Makkachin's ears back in place, and the dog relaxed again. "I was such a mess after I lost."

"But you're a champion now." Viktor turned to him, and though the angle wasn't perfect, managed a wicked little smile and a kiss to his cheek. "Yurio is never going to forgive you for Worlds, you know."

"I- well!" Another kiss. "Stop!" More kisses. "Viktor!"

It was then that the doorbell rang, getting Makkachin to bark and Viktor to sit up at attention.

"It's here! Finally! Yay!" He scrambled to his feet, slipping on the hardwood floor in his socks. "Yuuri! Go get it, you cute delivery boy!" ... "Please? I'll set the table."

"Okay, okay..."

Yuuri retrieved the food and they reconvened at the table, where Viktor gave him a very sweet kiss for his tip, which Yuuri happily accepted. Honey walnut shrimp, pork lo mein, wontons, and chicken broccoli was more than enough food for the pair of them, but as Viktor had mentioned- they could eat the leftovers later.

"Itadakimasu!" Viktor said, reaching for a pair of chopsticks. "Ooh, they remembered the extra walnuts this time!"


End file.
